


Private Dancer

by Dextrousleftie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Love, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1485586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextrousleftie/pseuds/Dextrousleftie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel falls into lust at first sight with his dance company's new accountant. Will he be able to put the moves on this guy, or is a relationship between them just not in the numbers?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The man and the woman danced. Together, they glided and twirled and leapt like stags. The man lifted the woman above his head like an offering to the gods, and she raised her hands as if in supplication. Their bodies became one, twining together in lithesome joy in their own movement. They were beautiful, two magnificent animals. Sweat shone on their arms and faces as they went into the final part of the dance, the man whirling around like a dervish as he held the woman slightly aloft against his body. Their mouths were almost touching, their breaths mingling, as they looked deeply into each others' eyes. 

Silence fell as the music ended. Neither man nor woman moved, holding their positions. Then a pair of hands began to clap, and a slender older woman walked onto the stage. "Excellent, my loves!" she crowed. "Well done! Gabriel, you were magnificent! Lara, you exuded sexuality! That's exactly what I wanted!"

"Thank you, Matilde," the male dancer said with a smile. 

"Take a break, my children. You've earned it," the older woman went on. 

A nod. The man padded to the edge of the stage and sat down with his legs dangling, leaning back on his arms. He tilted his head back, taking a deep breath. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, outlining the muscles. His slightly curling, mink-brown hair brushed his shoulders as he closed his eyes. 

"Gabriel," the female dancer said impatiently above his head. "Let's go get a drink together later, after rehearsal."

The man took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "I've told you before, Lara, that I’m not interested in you." he drawled in a faintly-accented voice.

She put her hands on her nearly non-existent hips and glared down at him. "Why not?" she demanded.

He blew air out in a long exhalation. "Several reasons," he replied acerbically. "The first being that I'm not into women. And even if I was, I wouldn’t be interested in a shallow, vain, spoiled, petulant little bitch like you anyway."

She gasped in outrage, her glare turning molten. "You bastard!" she shrieked. "How dare you speak to me that way?! Go to hell, Gabriel!"

"That would only happen if I decided to go out with you after all," he said coolly.

The female dancer screamed and launched herself at him, her fingernails curled into claws. He slid off the stage lithely, avoiding her strike with ease. He turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Tssk, tssk, Lara," he said. "That wasn't very nice. Behave yourself."

"I'll kill you, Gabriel!" she yelled, shaking a fist at him.

"I'm sure. I'm going to go and get some water," he replied, flipping a hand at her. 

He smirked as he left her standing on the stage, a look of pure hatred and outrage twisting her pretty face. Gabriel Bruchli sighed in disgust as he left by a side door, and went in search of a bottle of water from the little refrigerator in the break room, which was always kept well-stocked. Dancing was thirsty work. He was growing tired of fending off Lara's advances. She seemed to think that just because they were working so closely together, and dancing in such a sensual, intimate way, that he should be drowning in lust for her. But that was just an act that he put on for the stage. Apparently he did it so well, however, that the silly cow couldn't separate him from his on-stage persona. It was very annoying.

Lara was an excellent dancer, but her personality left A LOT to be desired. Even if he'd been sexually attracted to women, he wouldn't be attracted to HER. If only he could get that through her head. Just because she was angry with him now, didn't mean a thing. The next time they danced together, all of the insults that he’d heaped on her would fly right out of her air head. And he'd have to fend off her advances yet again...

 

Gabriel padded barefoot down the narrow hallway toward the break room, a spring in his step. While that incident with Lara had annoyed him, his body was humming contentedly at him. Dancing always made him feel so alive, and so in tune with his own body. Tired, yes, but also vital and energized. As he approached the break room, he saw their leader and choreographer, Matilde Laurente, talking with a man near the side door of the theater. All he could see was the back of this person's head, and the dark fabric of a suit. 

He paused, listening to their voices. "I hope that you'll be able to make sense of the books, Monsieur Meyer," Matilde was saying. "Our last bookkeeper was an incompetent fool. I'm very much afraid that the IRS is going to come knocking at my door any day now. We desperately need help."

"I'll do my best, Mz. Laurente," a slightly soft, quiet voice replied. "I'm pretty good at cleaning up messes. I should have been a janitor," he added, dry humor lacing his speech.

Matilde laughed a little, while a curious, interested Gabriel considered going over there and introducing himself. Something about the man's voice made him want to see his face. Giving in to his urge, he walked down the hallway and called out: "Matilde! Could I have a word with you?"

She turned toward him. "Of course, Gabriel, mon cher. What is it?"

"I wish to have a word with you about Lara," he began. "But I see I am interrupting something," he went on, his eyes flashing over to the stranger to see what his face looked like. 

"Ah, no. Gabriel Bruchli, this is our troupe's new accountant, Alan Meyer. Monsieur Meyer, this is our lead dancer, Gabriel Bruchli."

The accountant was staring at him. Gabriel returned the favor with interest. He saw a rather narrow face with attractive bone structure, pleasant-looking if not handsome. A pair of rather large, clear eyes, full of a keen intelligence, were framed by surprisingly pale lashes, and looked at him from behind gold-wire framed glasses. Thick hair that hovered between blonde and brown was cut short and neat atop his head, showing a nicely-shaped skull. His body, what Gabriel could see of it clad in a dark business suit, had surprisingly broad shoulders tapering down to a narrower waist. Fine, sinewy hands, topped with long fingers, held a briefcase and a leather bag, respectively. 

He became aware that those clear eyes were riveted on his bare, muscular chest, and he saw the man swallowing nervously. Gabriel's lips lifted in the slightest of smiles. "It is very nice to meet you, Mr. Meyer," he purred in his sexiest voice. He held out his hand to be shaken, still smiling like a large predator.

The accountant gulped, draping the leather bag over his shoulder by the strap so that he could reach out and take Gabriel's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Bruchli," he said. He sounded a tad nervous, and his fingers were shaking a bit in Gabriel's grip. 

The dancer felt pleased and excited. Here was a tasty little morsel for him to devour, felicitously falling into his lap. Maybe he’d swallow this darling creature whole..."So you're going to be working with us, eh?" he said aloud. His fingers caressed over the accountant's, making the other man's mouth open a little and his breathing take on a certain panting quality. Gabriel tried hard not to visibly lick his lips.

"Oui, I hired Monsieur Meyer to straighten out the snarled mess our books have become under our last bookkeeper’s incompetent efforts," Matilde remarked, beaming at the accountant. "He comes highly recommended."

"I'm sure he does," Gabriel said throatily, lowering his lashes and looking at Alan Meyer under them. "Here’s hoping that you're able to save us, Mr. Meyer," he added, his lips curling upward at the corners in a wicked smile.

"Uh..." the accountant finally managed to disentangle his fingers from Gabriel's grip. "I'll try my best," he said, his voice cracking a little. He was so nervous. It was extremely charming. It activated all of Gabriel's predatory instincts. 

"I'm sure that your best will be very good indeed," he said.

Matilde was eyeing him jaundicedly. He shrugged just a little in return, and she shook her head. "Anyway, Monsieur Meyer, let me show you the office you'll be working from," Matilde commented, taking the accountant's arm. "We'll see you later, Gabriel," she twiddled her fingers at him, dragging the poor befuddled accountant away by the arm.

 

Gabriel grinned. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, anticipation gleaming in his eyes. It looked like life was going to take an interesting turn around here. He was really looking forward to seducing the dance troupe's new accountant.  
This thought made the front of his deliberately tattered tights become even more tight. He glanced down ruefully at his own groin, thinking at it: 'Just a little while longer, my friend. Then we'll both get a lovely treat.'  
He padded off to fetch the bottle of water from the fridge, needing it more than ever now. Afterward, perhaps he'd track down Matilde and ask her to do something about that bitch Lara. If they were going to continue to work together, he needed that crazy woman to back off. Otherwise, one of these days he was going to punch her in the mouth. And he was sure that Matilde would NOT be pleased if her principal male dancer got hauled off to jail for assault...


	2. No Touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To his frustration, Gabriel finds out he can't make a play for the sexy accountant after all...

"I'll just leave you here to look over the books, Monsieur Meyer," Matilde said from the doorway.

Sitting in the chair behind the narrow wooden desk, Alan Meyer looked up. "That’s fine, Mz. Laurente. I'll probably be a few hours, assessing everything." 

"Bien. Listen, Monsieur Meyer," she went on, "About Gabriel..."

He felt the muscles in his stomach tighten treacherously as a vision of that half-naked gorgeous dancer flew through his head involuntarily. He cleared his throat. 

"Yes?" he squeaked. "What about him?"

"Gabriel is a talented dancer and a charming man," Matilde began. "But he is...how would you Americans put it...a playboy. He likes to seduce anyone who catches his eye. You should be wary of him." 

He blinked. "Me? Why me?" he asked, baffled.

Her eyebrows flew up. "Truly you did not see that he is enamored of you?" she asked incredulously. 

His jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe what she’d just said! That handsome, sweaty stud of a man couldn’t possibly be interested in...HIM! He was a boring accountant, a man who loved numbers and making them add up in neat rows. Not only that, while he knew he wasn't ugly, he wasn't shockingly handsome, either. Nor did he work out obsessively. He was, for all intents and purposes, a completely average guy. He should be a non-entity to that magnificent, half-clothed animal.

Seeing his skeptical expression, Matilde sighed. "I know him well, Monsieur." she remarked. "All I am saying is that you should be careful of him. If you find him attractive, and you don't mind a bit of transitory pleasure, then by all means sleep with him when he propositions you. But please don't think that it is anything more than a fling. Gabriel is not the type of man who is meant to be monogamous."

"Err..." he began. "I'm sorry, Mz. Laurente, but I really can't believe that someone like that would even hit on somebody like me."

"As you say. Anyway, it is your problem now. I'll leave you to look over the books in peace," she waved a careless hand at him and departed.

 

Alan methodically laid out everything on the desk that he'd need, his mind still half on what Matilde had said. He felt incredulous whenever he thought about her warning - it was ridiculous. That dancer couldn't have any interest in a nobody like him. He should just stop thinking about it, and concentrate on his work. 

 

Gabriel finished his bottle of water. As he dropped it in the recycle bin in the corner, Matilde appeared in the doorway of the break room. "Gabriel, I wish to speak to you," she said imperiously.

"Yes, and I wish to speak with you. About Lara," he said patiently. 

She nodded. "Very well. But let me say this first. I know what you're thinking, Gabriel. I saw how you were eyeing Monsieur Meyer. But I am asking you to postpone your philandering until after he has straightened out our books. I do not wish his mind to be elsewhere, not while he is working on the shambles that our books have become. This is very important, Gabriel. If he cannot fix the books, then we will be in serious trouble with the IRS."

He sobered. "Is it so very bad?" he asked. 

She nodded again. "Oui. Very bad. He may just be our last hope of salvation. So please, Gabriel, refrain from seducing him until he has finished his work. Will you do that for me?"

"I will," he conceded reluctantly. He liked this troupe; he didn't want to have to go find another one to work with because Matilde was in jail for tax evasion. 

She looked relieved. "Merci bien, mon ami. You have my gratitude."

"But after he is done..." Gabriel began with a wicked smile.

"Mm. All bets are off, as the Americans say?" she commented with a wry smile. 

"Indeed. Now, about Lara..."

"She is a crazy bitch," Matilde said flatly, making his eyebrows shoot up. "I am aware. I would have done something about her sooner, but the truth is she is an excellent dancer and a great partner for you. I will have a word with her about her persistent stalking of you. Yes, I have noticed it," she added.

Relieved, he smiled at her. "Merci, Matilde."

"Anything for you, mon cher Gabriel."

 

Alan caught sight of the dancer Gabriel Bruchli standing near the back door of the theater, pulling on a light jacket. He gulped heavily, remembering how the sweat had gleamed on the man's bare chest earlier. But Gabriel only nodded at him pleasantly, and greeted him in a neutral way. "Good evening, Mr. Meyer. How went your work?"

"Oh, good," he said, tamping down a shaft of disappointment at this casual enquiry.

"How long do you think it will take you to straighten out our books?" Gabriel asked keenly, his eyes half-hidden by his lowered eyelids.

"I'm not sure. A couple of weeks, at least," Alan told him.

A faint grimace. "I see. Well, good luck with your endeavors, Mr. Meyer. Matilde will be so pleased if you can straighten this whole matter out for her."

"I'll do my best," he said politely.

A nod. "I'm sure you will," this statement lacked all of the earlier innuendo, and he felt another lance of disappointment flow through him. He tried very hard to ignore it. "Anyway, I must be going. I shall see you later, Mr. Meyer."

"Thank you, Mr. Bruchli. Goodnight."

The dancer smiled at him in a very impersonal way and pushed out through the side door of the theater into the dusk, leaving Alan alone. He sighed as he collected his own jacket from a hook near the door, shaking his head at himself. He really had allowed Matilde's warning to go to his head for nothing. The dancer wasn't the least bit interested in him, just as he'd thought. He pushed through the door himself, intent on driving home to eat a solitary evening meal. And try not to think about how very lonely he was sometimes... 

 

Gabriel sipped at his drink, perching lightly on a bar stool. Next to him, his friend and confidante Alain Burry finished off his own cocktail with a sigh of pleasure at the way it tasted. Gabriel hid a smile - his friend had always been a sensualist. That was something he could understand, as he was the same way. Anything that made one feel good...

"How is a life in finance treating you, Alain?" he asked idly, twirling the colorful umbrella stuck in his drink with his fingertips. 

His friend grimaced. "It is stressful," he remarked. "Not like your life, Gabriel. I can't get up at noon everyday, or spend most of my time chasing tail. It must be nice."

He laughed. "Perhaps, but at least you have money and job security, Alain. If I ever get hurt, my career as a dancer is over. There are drawbacks to every profession."

"Point taken," his friend conceded. I'll tell you, Gabriel, when I first left Switzerland to come here and work, I never imagined that I would stay for so very long."

"I know what you mean," he replied. "But America truly is still the land of opportunity, in spite of its many problems. And American men - I like American men," he purred happily.

Alain chuckled. "I've noticed," he said. "And American men like YOU, too. So who is your latest conquest, hmm? Tell me about him."

"No one at the moment," Gabriel said. "But that is only because Matilde made me promise not to seduce the troupe's new accountant until he's finished straightening out our books. So in a few weeks..." 

Alain snorted. "And of course, he will have no defenses against you. A charming, handsome foreigner with enough muscles to make the average gay man faint with joy...never mind that there is no substance to you. Looks over substance, that is the mantra of American men."

"Are you feeling bitter because I get laid so much more often than you?" Gabriel said with a wicked grin.

Alain waved at the bartender to order another drink. "Yes," he growled. "I am terribly envious of you, Gabriel, I will admit that. It is not fair! I have money, power, decent looks, and almost the exact same accent that you do, but men brush me aside on their way to introduce themselves to you. It is very frustrating, being friends with you."

"I'm sorry, Alain," Gabriel said contritely. "Perhaps I could introduce you to some of those men?"

"Non. I do not wish to have pity sex with men who are pouting because you did not want them. I might not require true love or a relationship where sex is concerned, but I DO require that the man actually want ME specifically, not just a warm body in his bed when any will do. Do not do me any favors."

Gabriel gave a very Gallic shrug. "As you like. But perhaps you are being too picky?"

Alain eyed him. "As if you are not? I have seen you reject many men, some very attractive."

"But I can afford to," Gabriel said wickedly.

Alain glared at him. "Why am I friends with you?” he asked sulkily.

Gabriel laughed. “Because I am a good friend, Alain. Just wait and see,” he slipped off the bar stool. “I shall return momentarily,” he said, strolling away. 

Alain frowned. He wondered if he should go after Gabriel, but finally he shrugged and reached for his new drink. He didn’t know what his friend was up to, but whatever it was couldn’t be good. Gabriel was such a wicked creature. But he was also great fun, which is why Alain was friends with him in the first place. That, and since they were from the same country they could commiserate together when they started to become homesick. 

“Excuse me?” a voice said. He looked up, blinking, into the eyes of a man hovering nearby. 

“Yes?” Alain asked, his brows drawing together. 

“Your friend said that you might like to have a drink with me,” the other man pointed across the bar, to where Gabriel was sitting at a table with a small group of young men. As he looked, Alain saw Gabriel raise a hand and wave cheekily at him. 

Alain wanted to snarl. This is exactly what he’d told Gabriel just minutes before that he didn’t want! He didn’t need young men who’d been turned down by his friend being pushed off on him as a consolation prize. “Look,” he began shortly.

“I don’t usually do this,” the other man said, cutting him off hurriedly. “But I’d noticed you earlier, drinking with your friend, and I wanted to come over and introduce myself to you then. But I thought that you were WITH your friend, not just having a drink with him. You know what I mean? And I didn’t want to interfere. Then your friend came over to introduce himself to me and my friends, and he happened to mention that you were a good friend of his but nothing more, and that he wanted to find someone to set you up with. I admit I jumped at the chance, because now I knew that you were single...am I being too pushy?” he asked anxiously.

Alain felt something in his chest loosen and relax. He smiled. “No, you are not,” he replied courteously. “Please sit down...err...?”

“Ben, Ben Cotter,” the other man said, sitting down on the bar stool that Gabriel had vacated earlier. 

“I am Alain Burry. It is very nice to meet you, Ben.”

 

Over at the table with the group of men, Gabriel chuckled silently to himself. He'd spotted the interested look on that young man's face earlier, so when Alain began to complain he'd taken matters into his own hands. He'd come over and introduced himself, being as charming as possible. And he'd flirted with the prettiest of the group, making it clear that he wasn't here with a boyfriend; in fact, he'd dropped the snippet of information that he was here at the bar with a person who was a friend and nothing more. The guy who'd shown such interest in Alain had brightened up at his words, and had excused himself soon after. Gabriel smirked as he watched the two men sitting side-by-side on bar stools as they talked. He really was just that good. And he always took care of his friends. 

The pretty young man sitting beside him touched his arm, stroking it with his fingertips. "You want to get out of here, baby?" he cooed, giving Gabriel a seductive glance from under his lashes. 

He shrugged. "I'm afraid not," he replied, making the beauty's jaw drop. 

"What?! Why not?" he demanded petulantly. Clearly he wasn't used to being turned down. 

"I have to go home and get some sleep," Gabriel replied simply. "I'm tired. Perhaps another time?"

"Sure. I'll give you my number," the beauty wrote his phone number on a napkin and handed it to Gabriel.

He tucked it into his pocket and kissed the lovely young man's fingertips. "Many thanks, beautiful creature," he purred. 

"You'll call me soon, right?" the young man demanded. 

"I really have to go," Gabriel said, evading the question. He rose lithely to his feet. "Have a good evening, gentlemen," he told the whole table. 

"Call me!" the pretty one cried, waving a hand at him.


	3. Shall We Dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets a taste of the forbidden.

Gabriel flipped a casual hand at him in return, and strolled away out of the bar. He really was going to go home and get into bed. They'd had a hard rehearsal today. Out on the sidewalk, he paused to pull the napkin out of his pocket and deposit in it in a trash can not far away. Pretty as that boy had been, Gabriel much preferred to be the one who did the pursuing. Too-aggressive men put him off. He liked slightly shy ones, like that cute accountant. The one who'd blushed a little when Gabriel had taken his hand...such a charming creature! He allowed himself to lick his lips this time, as he pulled out his cell phone to call a cab to take him home. 

Yes, he was really looking forward to seducing Alan Meyer as soon as the accountant had finished straightening out the tangled snarl of their books. In the meantime, he would practice a few weeks of celibacy. Anticipation was often almost as good as actuality, and not having sex would sharpen his appetite for when he finally got that adorable creature into his bed. Then he would devour Alan Meyer mercilessly, down to the very last bite...

 

 

Alan arrived at the theater promptly at 8 A.M. the next day. He carried a bag containing his lunch and all the tools of his trade over his shoulder, and he used the spare key that Matilde Laurente had provided him with to get in the side door. This early in the day, he was the only one in the building. He made his way to the small office where he was working, sitting down behind the desk. He pulled out his packed lunch, setting the insulated bag aside until he needed it. Then he pulled out all of the things he'd need to do his job, including a calculator, an adding machine, a tablet computer, and a pad of lined paper and a pencil. He laid these out precisely on the desktop, arranging his work space just the way he liked it. He got down to work, immersing himself in the theater's books as he tried to undo what the last(clearly incompetent) accountant had done to them.

 

Hours passed. He never looked up from his work except to occasionally take a sip of coffee from the Styrofoam container near at hand. The theater began to buzz with life, but he was oblivious to it. Finally his bladder began to twinge at him, signaling its need to be emptied. He looked up, blinking, coming out of the haze he fell into when he was concentrating on his work. He got to his feet, grimacing a little as he went toward the door to try to find a rest room. The office didn't have one. 

Outside in the hallway, he looked both ways. But there were no signs anywhere for a bathroom. He'd simply have to go and ask someone. He sighed as he made his way back down the hallway toward the break room, knowing that was one place where he might find someone that he could ask about a rest room. 

He saw someone standing in the doorway of the break room, and opened his mouth to speak. Then the person turned around, and he felt his heart lurch in his chest when he saw that it was Gabriel Bruchli. The dancer's eyes rested on his face, and his breath started coming short. "Mr. Meyer," Gabriel said calmly. "Hello again."

"Umm, hi," he said, fighting not to do the 'pee-pee' dance. "Mr. Bruchli? Could you tell me where the rest rooms are?"

"Ah." understanding entered Gabriel's eyes. "Come with me, Mr. Meyer. I'll show you where the bathroom is."

He followed after the dancer as Gabriel walked away, trying hard not to stare at the man's fabulous ass. And failing miserably. Was it his fault that Gabriel Bruchli was wearing a pair of pants that were just short of skin-tight? He gulped heavily, feeling yet another discomfort join the need to urinate at his groin. He dragged his eyes up with an effort and stared at the back of Gabriel's head instead, as the dancer arrived at an unmarked, green-painted door about a third of a way down the hallway leading to the stage.

"Here we are," Gabriel remarked, touching the door lightly with his fingertips. 

"Thank you so much," he said gratefully.

"I was happy to help," Gabriel said as he stepped back and let Alan pass him. 

The accountant had no idea that Gabriel's eyes were riveted on his ass in turn as he went into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, and Gabriel sighed and shrugged. He walked away, knowing that he had to wait patiently no matter how difficult it might be. 

 

Alan sighed in relief as he emptied his bladder into the toilet, then flushed. he went to wash his hands in the little sink, seeing his own face in the mirror hanging above it. He studied his own face, but it was no more attractive than it had ever been. He wasn't ugly, by any means; but he thought that his face was rather bland, a much worse crime than being interestingly ugly. Sighing, he shut off the faucet and exited the bathroom. 

 

He returned to his work, and got lost again until the alarm that he'd deliberately set on his tablet computer went off at noon. He looked up, blinking, the real world returning to him once again. It was time for lunch. he always set the alarm on his little computer when he was deep in his work, because otherwise he often went without a noon meal because he got so wrapped up in what he was doing that he completely forgot everything else. 

He stretched in his chair, yawning, his mind turning from columns of numbers to the packed lunch waiting in the insulated bag on the desktop. He reached for it, but before he could open the bag and start removing its content, he heard a knock at the doorframe of the open door. Startled, he looked up to see Gabriel Bruchli leaning against the doorframe like a lounging panther. "Good afternoon, Mr. Meyer," the dancer said, as his heart kicked up into a painfully fast beat. "Are you taking a break for lunch?"

"Y-Yes," he said, cursing his own nervous stuttering.

"Where are you going to eat?" Gabriel asked keenly. 

He blinked. "I wasn't going anywhere," he replied. "I have a lunch packed right here," he held up the insulated bag for Gabriel to see. 

The dancer eyed the bag with disfavor. "A packed lunch? Are you twelve?" he jeered genially, making color come flooding up into Alan's cheeks.

"No!" he protested. "Lots of people pack lunches. There's nothing wrong with that!"

Gabriel admired the angry color swarming up in the accountant's cheeks. "I suppose not," he conceded, his lips twitching a little. "But a packed lunch can't be very tasty. You should come and eat with me. I shall buy you lunch."

Alan's mouth dropped open. "Uh...you don't need to do that!" he cried. 

"Of course I do not need to do it. I want to. I need a companion for lunch, and the others have all gone. Come with me as a favor. I want someone to have a conversation with," he said coaxingly.

"Oh. Well...I don't know," Alan said doubtfully.

“Pretty please? I don’t want to be lonely,” Gabriel replied, letting a sad look fleet over his face.

Alan felt a twinge of sympathy go through him. He understood what it was like to be lonely. “All right,” he said, rising to his feet.

Gabriel brightened up. “My thanks, Mr. Meyer! I hope you don’t mind driving us to the bistro,” he added. “I’m afraid that I don’t have a driver’s license,” he explained.

Surprised, Alan stared at him. “You don’t? Why not?”

Gabriel shrugged as he stepped out into the hallway. “I’m afraid that it’s a phobia of mine, driving,” he said as they both started down the hallway toward the side door of the theater. “You see, when I was sixteen my father and I were in a terrible car accident. We were on an alpine road, and my father took a curve too sharply and too fast. The car rolled over three time's, and my father was killed instantly. After that, I’ve been terrified to drive. Foolish of me, I know,” he went on with a slight moue.

“No, it isn’t!” Alan cried, sympathy welling up inside of him. “What a terrible thing to happen! I’m so sorry about your father, Mr. Bruchli.”

Gabriel glanced at his earnest face, and a tiny smile flickered over his mouth. “Thank you for your sympathy, Mr. Meyer,” he said softly. "You have a kind heart.”

To his delight, a gentle rosy color swarmed up into Alan's cheeks. He had to remind himself sternly that he couldn't begin his pursuit of the accountant until he'd finished with the books. Matilde would have his head if he didn't keep his promise to her. So he said aloud, in as a cool a voice as he could manage: "Anyway, that is why I do not drive. And that is why I appreciate the fact that you are willing to play chauffeur for us today."

"I don't mind," Alan said earnestly. "Where are we going?"

Gabriel gave him the name and address of the bistro as they went out into the parking lot, and walked toward his little sedan. "I think I can get there without using gps or a map," Alan said. 

"Good. I'm starving," Gabriel remarked as he got into the passenger's side of the car. "We burn a lot of calories in rehearsals, though we will burn even more once we start performing."

"When do you start performing?" Alan asked curiously as he buckled on his seat belt and started the car.

"In two weeks. Three shows a day. Would you like to come to one of them?"

The accountant looked surprised. "Me? I mean, I don't think that I've ever..."

"There's a first time for everything," the dancer pointed out. "You should come. I think you will enjoy it."

Alan thought about it as he drove out of the parking lot next to the theater. "I suppose I could," he said after a moment. 

"Very good. I will ask Matilde to give you a pair of tickets, in case you wish to bring someone," Gabriel's eyes slid sideways, studying Alan's profile. "Like a date," he added slyly.

Alan's cheek definitely turned a bit red. "That won't be necessary," he said hurriedly, "I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."

"Oh? That's too bad," Gabriel said, concealing a wicked, satisfied smile. "Perhaps you could bring a friend?"

"I could do that," Alan agreed, sounding relieved. "My friend Melissa would probably like dancing."

"Bring her along, then," Gabriel said gaily. He wasn't worried about a woman - she'd be no competition. He knew a sweet little gay boy when he saw one. 

"Okay, I will. Thanks."

 

They didn't talk much after that while Alan negotiated the noonday traffic. Gabriel relaxed back in his seat, only occasionally glancing at the driver out of the side of his eyes. He enjoyed the view thoroughly. Alan had a look of concentration on his face as he drove, an expression that Gabriel thought was decidedly cute. Would he look like that in bed? Would he put all of his effort and concentration into pleasure? He looked forward to answering that question very soon...

"I think you will like this place, Mr. Meyer," Gabriel said as he got out of the car at the bistro. "The food is excellent."

Thinking with a certain amount of regret of his packed lunch back at the theater, Alan nodded. He hated for food to go to waste. But his thoughts were soon diverted, because he was far too conscious of Gabriel walking beside him as they started into the restaurant. The man was like a caged animal, powerful and sexy. He had a slinky way of walking that did funny things in the pit of Alan's stomach. He darted inside the building as Gabriel held the door for him, not wanting to be close to the man if he could help it. 

Inside, the hostess found them a small table and left them with menus. "Get whatever you want," Gabriel instructed him. "I am paying for lunch."

"But..." Alan began unhappily. 

The dancer waved an admonishing finger at him. "Ah ah. I am paying, Mr. Meyer. There will be no discussion of the issue."

Alan wavered, but finally began to read his menu. He noticed that there were no prices on it. So he couldn't pick the cheapest thing on there. Darn it! He debated, but when the waiter came to take their orders he got the poached salmon with a spring salad and new potatoes. Gabriel ordered beef bourgenon. "I can eat whatever I want," he remarked to Alan as the waiter left. "Because I simply burn off the calories with all of the dancing that I do. One of the best parts of being a dancer, actually," he added with a grin. 

"It must be nice," Alan said wistfully. "I have to watch what I eat, and I take long walks every evening for exercise. Otherwise I'd be chubby in no time," he said, looking down at his own body ruefully.

"Well, whatever you do, it obviously works. You look very trim," Gabriel told him.

He blushed a little in pleasure at this compliment. “Thanks.”

Gabriel smiled sensually. “You’re very welcome,” he said, and something in his eyes made Alan's breath come short. But then he looked away across the bistro, so that the accountant could compose himself.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gabriel is suffering...

The waiter returned with a glass of water for Alan, and the glass of wine that Gabriel had ordered. “You don’t want anything to drink?” the dancer asked, glancing at the glass of water.

Alan shrugged. “I can’t drink and drive. I don’t hold my liquor very well. I can get very mildly drunk even from one glass of wine. I don’t think I should be driving while tipsy.”

“A very good point,” Gabriel agreed. “Very well. What would you like to talk about while we wait for our food?”

“I don’t know,” Alan replied. “I mean, I’m not very interesting...”

Gabriel made a “Pah,” sound. “I think you underestimate yourself,” he said sternly. “Tell me something about yourself, and I’ll decide whether it’s interesting or not.”

Alan shrugged. “Umm...I like to collect figurines,” he began. “That’s not very interesting.”

“I will be the judge of that. What kind of figurines?”

“Uh, shepherdesses and cherubs and all kinds of things. I really like porcelain figurines, especially if they’re from the 1800s. See? You can’t say that that's particularly exciting.”

“Eh, you could have worse hobbies,” Gabriel replied, waving a hand negligently at him. “And not everything in life has to be utterly exciting. I, for example, enjoy walking my dog in the evenings. That’s not particularly exciting, either, but I still find it a pleasant occupation.”

“What kind of dog?” Alan asked curiously.

“A St. Bernard named Lucien. I bought him from a breeder when I was feeling homesick a few years ago,” he said with a wry smile.

“Homesick?”

“Yes, I am originally from Switzerland. I came to America to study dance when I was twenty, on a scholarship. I’ve grown to love this country, but sometimes I get homesick for Switzerland. Lucien helps me to remember my childhood - we had a St. Bernard on my parents’ farm when I was a child.”

Alan was fascinated. He didn’t know that much about Switzerland, except for the fact that it had always been a neutral country during just about every war in Europe. And he’d heard that just about every person in the country was a part of the national militia, and so almost every household in Switzerland was armed. And the Alps, of course...

"So, is it really different, living in America?" he asked curiously. 

Gabriel nodded. "Very different. Life is slower in Switzerland. Here in America, you all rush and rush and rush. It is as though you think that if you run fast enough, you won't ever die. Or perhaps you do it to take your mind off of death; I cannot be sure. In either case, it is fascinating but exhausting."

"I guess that life is pretty fast-paced here. I've never thought about it, because I've never lived anywhere else but the U.S."

"You should try it. It would give you a different perspective on life."

The waiter brought their salads just then, so they didn't talk anymore for awhile after that. Alan had red wine vinaigrette on his salad, while Gabriel drizzled Russian dressing on his. Alan kept sneaking glances at the dancer as he ate his salad, marveling at how handsome he was. From his long, sloping, 'bedroom eyes', to his sensual full mouth, Gabriel Bruchli was a total stud. Even the faint scruff along his jaw line was sexy. Women probably swarmed all over him. 

This thought depressed him, so he tried to concentrate on his food instead. The salad was tasty, made with lots of fresh, organically-grown vegetables. He took pleasure in the taste as he took each bite. He'd always been a bit of a sensualist, especially where food was concerned. All of the crisp flavors seemed to dance on his tongue. 

Across the table, Gabriel was watching him eat with low-lidded eyes. The expression of pleasure on Alan's face was doing bad things to the crotch of his trousers. Made him want to lunge across the table, grab the cutie, and stretch him out on top of this table so that he could have his way with him in front of all of the other diners in the bistro. Right at the moment, he wasn't hungry for...food.

 

Alan, unaware of his lunch companion's interest in him, finished his salad. By that time, the waiter had arrived with their meals. The herb-encrusted salmon looked and smelled delicious. He finally stopped regretting the abandonment of his packed lunch, in favor of enjoying the wonderful-looking food on his plate. He took a bite, then hummed in contented bliss. Marvelous!

Gabriel almost groaned aloud. He had to turn his attention to his own plate, and concentrate hard on each bite of his meal, because otherwise he was going to do something very drastic and very wrong. How he'd love to smear chocolate all over his skin and let this adorable creature lick it off a bit at a time. Damn! He shuddered slightly, wondering if he was going to come in his trousers. 

To distract himself, Gabriel put a bite of food into his mouth and chewed vigorously. But it could have been made out of sawdust and ashes for all that he could taste it right now. Still, he was determined to eat his food and take his mind off of his lunch companion. Having such lusty thoughts in the middle of a public place would not be helpful. It's not like he could throw Alan Meyer down on the table and ravish him right in the middle of the restaurant. 

He stopped chewing as this thought tripped through his head, and closed his eyes as he groaned in the back of his throat. What a fool he was! The images racing through his head were setting him on fire. "Are you all right, Mr. Bruchli?" he heard Alan ask in concern across from him.

"Yes," he managed to grit out through his clenched teeth. "I am well, Mr. Meyer. It is just a minor pain from a pulled muscle," he added. This lie was much better than his telling the accountant the truth about what was bothering him. 

"Oh. I suppose that you get those pretty often, being a dancer and all," Alan remarked.

He opened his eyes, since his body was recovering once again from the shock to his system. "Yes, they are fairly common," he agreed. "I'll put some heat packs on it tonight, and wrap it well. It will be better by tomorrow."

Alan smiled. "That's good," he said.

His concern touched Gabriel. God, this creature was SO adorable! He just had to have him! Had to ravish him over and over, had to take him until he screamed in ecstasy...Curse Matilde, making him promise not to seduce Alan Meyer for at least two weeks! How was he supposed to survive for that long without jumping on the accountant and taking him by storm? He would be driven mad, he was sure of it!

Alan, blissfully unaware of his affect on the dancer, went back to eating his lunch. He was enjoying himself. He was having lunch with a really hot guy, and he could admire him as he ate and appreciated the delicious food. This was much better than eating his packed lunch alone in the office, then going back to his columns of numbers afterward. He was grateful that Gabriel had asked him out to lunch.

"The food is really good here," he said after a few minutes of eating in silence. "Thank you for inviting me."

"You're most welcome. But as I said before, I asked you to lunch with me because I don't like eating alone. It is much more congenial to have a companion to converse with."

Alan realized that he loved the formal way that Gabriel talked, in his slightly-accented voice. He could have listened to him talk all day. But of course he couldn’t, because...he glanced at his watch, and sighed when he saw that his lunch hour was nearly up. Gabriel said: “Why do you look at your watch, Mr. Meyer?”

“I only have fifteen minutes left of my lunch hour. I’ve got to take you back to the theater soon,” Alan explained. 

The dancer made a moue with his mobile mouth. “Can you not take another half an hour off? We could take our time and enjoy our dessert.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to stay on schedule,” the accountant replied. 

“Why? Is someone holding a gun to your head to force you to stay in this schedule?”

Alan laughed, ruefully. “No. But if I take another half hour off, I’ll feel guilty all day. I know myself. It’s just the way I am. I’m sorry.”

The dancer shrugged. “It’s of no account,” he said, waving a hand casually at Alan. “We can go. Just let me pay the check,” he lifted a hand for the waiter to bring him the check.

Alan felt bad that he wasn’t helping to pay for his lunch, but something told him if he tried to argue with Gabriel he’d get nowhere - and end up getting back late from lunch. So he didn’t say anything, though everything in him wanted to. Gabriel took the check from the waiter, and rose lithely to his feet. “I enjoyed eating lunch with you, Mr. Meyer,” he remarked, as Alan also got to his feet.

“So did I,” Alan replied. “And...would you call me Alan?”

Gabriel looked surprised, then pleased in a cat-like sort of way. “Alan,” he purred, and sound of his name on the sexy man’s lips made a shiver of lust go through Alan, leaving him breathless and slightly dizzy. “You must call me Gabriel,” the dancer added. 

“Gabriel,” he gasped.

That breathless sound, just as though the adorable creature were speaking it during a screaming bout of passion, made Gabriel stiffen(in all ways). He closed his eyes briefly. “I’ll just go and pay this,” he said in a painful voice, holding up the check. He managed not to hobble as he walked away toward the register, but it wasn’t easy. 

 

On the drive back to the theater, neither of them said much. Alan was concentrating on his driving, and Gabriel was trying to control himself. He had made a promise to Matilde, and he would keep it! Perhaps it would be wise, though, to avid being around Alan Meyer again until the accountant had finished going over the theater’s books. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to help himself. 

 

Once Alan pulled into the parking lot, Gabriel turned to him. Giving the accountant a perfunctory smile ,he said politely: "Thank you for coming to lunch with me, Mr. Meyer. I appreciate it."

"Thank you for asking me, Mr. Bruchli. I enjoyed it," Alan replied sincerely. 

The dancer's lips twitched, but he only opened the door of the car. "I'm glad," he said, getting deftly out of the vehicle. "Goodbye, Mr. Meyer," he closed the door and walked away toward the theater, leaving Alan sitting behind the wheel, watching his retreating back rather mournfully.

 

 

For the next couple of days, Alan felt expectant every time his alarm went off to tell him that it was lunchtime. But when he looked at the doorway, it was always empty. No Gabriel Bruchli, come to ask him to eat lunch with him again. He tried hard not to feel miserable as he unpacked his lunch and ate in the office, but a shaft of misery always flowed through him when Gabriel didn't appear. He knew he was being stupid, hoping that the dancer would want to eat with him again; he knew he wasn't the most interesting or stimulating companion that Gabriel could find to eat with him. Probably, he'd only been using Alan as a substitute for someone more interesting that one time, and now that he had access to other people, he'd forget all about the boring accountant that he'd shared a single meal with. He should just do the same, and forget about Gabriel Bruchli.

But how could he? Gabriel wasn't boring. He was sexy, and interesting, and gorgeous! Everything that Alan wasn't. He was completely unforgettable, so no matter how many times he tried to put Gabriel out of his mind, he just couldn't. Which left him in a state of perpetual depression, even if only a mild one. And the only way to ignore or forget that depression was to immerse himself completely in his work. 

 

So that's what he did. Every day, he arrived at the theater early and got right down to work. When his lunch alarm went off, he ate as quickly as he could, and then buried himself in the books once again. He always left after everybody else had gone home, because that way he could avoid seeing Gabriel again even for a moment. It was a lonely, sad existence, but he was sure that if he could get the job done quickly, he could walk away and try never to think about Gabriel Bruchli again. That task would be much less difficult if he never had to see the dancer again, so he pushed himself as hard as he could to finish the job as quickly as possible. 

 

At least the work was going well. The books were a terrible mess, but he was making sense of them at last. Neat columns of numbers were appearing on the spreadsheets on his tablet computer. Making those columns happen soothed his soul. Even if nothing else in his life was going right, as long as the numbers added up the world made sense to him. 

He'd moved his time table up by a week. At the rate that he was going, it would only take him another six days to finish the job. Then he could walk away, and try never to think of Gabriel Bruchli again. While he might not succeed, he'd do his best to put the dancer out of his mind. Maybe he'd try his hand at dating again. His friend Monica was always on him to let her set him up with a blind date. He shuddered at the very thought, but it might be better than being lonely. He could only hope...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel finally gets his wish.

Gabriel danced like a demon. He leapt and spun, whirling across the stage like a demented dervish. Sweat gleamed on his bare torso, and his breath heaved in his chest. he was driving himself like a madman, putting all of his pent-up sexual energy into his dancing. He felt more than a little mad, knowing that the object of his desire was just down the hall from the main stage, but might as well have been on the moon. He gritted his teeth, snarling like a wild animal, as he spun on his toes with his hands above his head. He didn’t know how much longer he'd be able to hold himself back, promise or no promise.

He went into his final movements, ending up in a crouch with his hands splayed on the stage in front of him. He held that pose for a moment, breathing heavily, his head bowed. He heard a voice speaking from behind his back: "Gabriel, mon cher. Why do you drive yourself so hard? You are going to do yourself a harm."

He came out of his crouch, turning to look over his shoulder. He saw Matilde standing nearby, a frown on her face and her arms folded over her breasts disapprovingly. He rose to his feet, and shrugged as he turned toward her. "I do not know what you mean, Matilde," he replied coolly. "I am simply practicing, that is all."

She snorted. "As the Americans would say - bullshit, Gabriel. That is not just practicing. I know what practicing looks like. You dance like a mad man, throwing everything you have into it. You are burning up your reserves, and will injure yourself if you are not careful. Por quoi? Why are you doing this?"

Under her laser-like stare, he couldn’t continue to prevaricate. He sighed, running a hand through his sweat-soaked mane of hair. "This is all your fault, Matilde," he told her ruefully.

Her plucked eyebrows rose sharply. "MY fault? And why is that?"

"Because you told me to stay away from the accountant! I have kept my promise, but it is driving me mad! I must find some way to burn off this excess sexual energy, or lose my mind entirely!"

"Ah, I see," the choreographer remarked dryly. "I should not have forgotten how high your sex drive is, Gabriel. But are you telling me that you haven't been with anyone else since you made me that promise?"

"That is correct," he affirmed. "And now it is all pent-up inside of me, and it has to emerge somehow."

"You would not even think of having sex with anyone else?"

He shook his head. "Until I have caught my prey, Matilde, the hunt is all I can think about. The thought of having him makes the blood boil in my veins. I am on fire with need."

"You needn't be so melodramatic, Gabriel," Matilde drawled. "But if you can promise me not to completely distract him, I will let you out of your original promise early. Please remember," she added, lifting a warning finger as his eyes lit up, "That it is very important that Monsieur Meyer finish his task. It is your very job at stake, Gabriel. And I know that your job is almost as important to you as your sex life," she went on drolly.

He nodded eagerly. "I will make that second promise, Matilde, to get myself out of the first one. Many thanks, cheri!"

She shook her head, though she smiled at the same time. "Poor Monsieur Meyer. I feel for him," she remarked dryly. 

 

Alan closed up his tablet for the day with a tired sigh. His eyes felt grainy and hot, and all he wanted to do was go home and take a long, hot bath to try to relax a little. What a long day this had been. Though all the days in the last week or so had seemed very, very long...

"Have you finished your work for the day, Mr. Meyer?" a familiar voice asked above his head, making him jump. 

His head flew up. He saw Gabriel Bruchli lounging in the doorway of the office, a small smile on his face. That smile made his stomach clench inside of him for some reason. It was wicked and lusty, and his eyes had a gleam in them that made a shiver pass through his frame. "Err...Mr. Bruchli..." he said, wincing at how breathless his voice sounded. 

"I have come," the dancer remarked to him, "To ask you out to dinner, Mr. Meyer."

He gasped his eyes going wide. "You...you...with ME?!" he squeaked, his voice rising embarrassingly.

Gabriel nodded, his smile widening and taking on a feral quality. "Yes, Mr. Meyer. Me with you. That is generally how it works when one person asks another out to dinner."

"Uh, uh," he couldn’t seem to pull himself together. "You don't really...want to go out to dinner...with me?" he said at last, feebly.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No, I don't. That is why I am asking you."

"But...like...on a DATE?!" Alan nearly wailed, his brain refusing to take in what was happening, 

Gabriel tilted his head. "Of course on a date. Certainly not on a business dinner," he added in amusement.

"You're gay," Alan said, dumbfounded. 

"Yes, as are you. Correct? So, why should not two single, unattached gay men go out on a date together? Unless you have someone?" he asked keenly, his eyes searching Alan's face.

He felt color flood up into his cheeks. "N-no, no I don't," he replied with as much dignity as he could muster.

The dancer nodded, satisfied. "You see? There is no impediment, then."

No impediment? How about the fact that you're a gorgeous, sexy dancer and I'm a bland-faced nobody of an accountant? Alan's mind screamed. Why they hell would you want to go out with ME?! "Surely you don't want to...to...go out with me, Mr. Bruchli," he said rather desperately. 

Gabriel folded his arms over his chest. "Yes, I always ask out people I do not wish to go on dates with," he replied acerbically. "It is a hobby of mine, you see."

There was a pause, while Alan just stared at him. Finally, Gabriel sighed and stirred. "If you do not wish to go out with me, Mr. Meyer, please just say so and I shall be on my way," he said impatiently.

The accountant felt panic rush through him. While he desperately wanted to say 'yes', he just as desperately wanted to dive under the desk and hide.   
Nothing like this had EVER happened to him before! But if he simply sat here and said nothing, Gabriel would leave and the problem would be solved automatically. And he'd lose his one chance to have something amazing happen to him, just because he was a total coward...

"No, I...I would like to go to dinner with you, Mr. Bruchli," he croaked, his voice not sounding like his own. 

Gabriel looked pleased and satisfied, his expression that of a cat that has just swallowed a canary and is eyeing the family fish tank. "Excellent. If you would not mind driving us once again, Mr. Meyer, I know the perfect restaurant. You will love it, I guarantee it."

"Okay," he said, distantly. Was this really happening? 

"Just let me get changed into street clothes. I will be but a moment," Gabriel departed from the doorway, leaving a stunned Alan sitting in his chair staring vacantly at the far wall. 

He was still sitting there when the dancer returned. "Mr. Meyer? Are you well?" Gabriel asked him in concern.

He blinked. "Umm, yes," he said at last, slowly. "It's just...this all feels like some weird dream. In the real world, a guy like you would NEVER ask a guy like me out."

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Alan waved a hand rather wildly at himself. "Look at me!" he cried. "I'm nothing special! I'm not gorgeous or sexy, or buff; I'm not like...YOU!" he said, pointing a finger at Gabriel as though in accusation. 

The dancer's lips quirked up at the side. "First of all, thank you for the compliments, Mr. Meyer," he purred, making Alan turn red. "But I find you decidedly attractive just as you are. Adorable, really. Edible," he went on, and the insinuation in his voice made the accountant gasp. 

"Really?" he asked, in wondering amazement and rising lust.

"Really," Gabriel replied calmly. "Now come. Let's go to dinner, and we can talk about it some more."

"Okay," he grabbed his bag and jumped to his feet, nervously. 

The dancer watched him with a small smile on his lips. That smile was doing bad things to Alan's breathing and his coordination. It was lucky he made it out of the door of the office without falling on his face. The hand that settled on his arm did nothing to cure any of this, and he walked beside Gabriel down the hallway toward the side door of the theater in a daze.   
Gabriel was amused and charmed by the effect his dinner invitation was having on his companion. Alan was just too, too cute! He felt a ferocious stirring of arousal, and he wanted to push Alan into the nearest broom closet and fuck him until he couldn't move anymore. Until he was screaming in ecstasy, until he passed out from it...

Gabriel shuddered, trying to pull himself together. He didn't want to scare his prey away by acting prematurely. He had to stalk this adorable creature carefully, furtively, until the time came to pounce. Then he would not hold himself back any longer. He would take the accountant by storm, sweep him away, and make love to him so many times that Alan Meyer wouldn’t be able to move for days, perhaps even weeks...

 

Alan, unaware of his companion's lascivious thoughts, was practically jittering as they moved out into the parking lot and walked toward his car. He still couldn’t believe that this was happening - he was sure to wake up at any moment. Still, it was a very nice dream. So maybe he didn't want to wake up from it after all. 

He took several deep breaths after getting behind the wheel of his car, then glanced sideways at Gabriel. He cleared his throat. "Where to?" He asked.

The dancer gave him directions to the restaurant they were going to. Alan pulled out into the traffic, with less-than-usual caution. He was still too thrown by what was happening. Gabriel was lounging back in the passenger's seat, humming a little under his breath. He sounded pleased with himself. Alan's eyes skittered over to him, then away again to stare out the front windshield. "I..." he began hesitantly. 

"Yes? What is it, Mr. Meyer?" Gabriel asked from his passenger seat. 

His fingers clutched tightly at the steering wheel. He swallowed convulsively. "Why are you...asking me out?" he said hoarsely. "And why NOW?! I've been working at the theater for almost two weeks, doing the books! Except for going to lunch together that one time, you haven't even talked to me!"

"Yes, that is true," Gabriel agreed calmly. "But I have a good reason. Matilde requested that I not ask you out until you had finished doing the books for the theater."

"Oh," he said in understanding. "But...I'm not finished with the books yet," he pointed out. 

"Yes, I know. But Matilde released me from my promise, as long as I don't distract you so much that you are unable to finish the job. I hope that you are professional enough not to be easily distracted by your personal life, Mr. Meyer?"

Alan blinked. "I'm pretty sure that I am," he began. 

Gabriel's smile was satisfied and cat-like. "That is excellent news," he purred, making Alan gulp heavily. 

 

"What would you like to...eat, Alan?" that sexy, throaty voice, asking such an insinuating question, made the accountant jump in his seat and knock his water glass over on its side. He squeaked an apology to the waiter as he fumbled with the glass, trying to right it. The man deftly picked up the glass and refilled it, setting it a bit further away from Alan's hand this time. Then he neatly soaked up the waiter stair on the white tablecloth with a hand towel. The accountant sat in his chair, feeling mortified, as the waiter cleaned up the mess he'd made. Gabriel watched him from the other side of the table, with a little smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes that were doing bad things to several parts of Alan's body. 

The waiter finally departed, leaving them with the menus. Gabriel leaned forward a little. "You shouldn't be so nervous, Alan," he crooned, meeting his eyes. "I do not bite, I swear." His eyes went lidded, and his smile widened slightly. "Well, not most of the time, anyway. Not unless someone specifically requests it."

Alan gasped at the image these words made form in his mind. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, completely aroused and now even more nervous than ever. He retreated behind his menu to hide from those devilish eyes, his cheeks burning. Dear God, what was he getting himself into here?! He tried to concentrate on what was written on the menu, but his eyes refused to focus properly. He blinked and finally managed to actually see the words, scanning the menu for something that looked good. Something besides Gabriel Bruchli, that is...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's finally going to get what he wants. Or is he...?

Gabriel was thoroughly enjoying teasing Alan. The accountant just blushed so adorably whenever the dancer made some sexual innuendo or brushed his hand over Alan’s on the tabletop. He felt completely aroused and also incredibly predatory. The hunt was on! Not that it would be much of a hunt; this cute creature would fall into his hands as easily as a well-ripened fruit. And then Gabriel would devour him whole, enjoying his sweet juices. He practically licked his lips at this thought, his eyes half-lidded.

He smiled sensually, sipping at his glass of wine. Alan looked up form his dinner, his eyes meeting Gabriel’s and then skittering away. How nervous he was! Well, he should be. Gabriel was the wolf that was going to eat this soft little rabbit right down to the bones. “How is your food, Alan?” he purred. “Is it good?”

The accountant visibly jumped, then blushed. “I-It’s good,” he stammered.

“Bien. There is nothing nice than…eating…a good meal, eh?” He put deliberate emphasis on the word ‘eating’.

Alan gulped visibly. His cheekbones were flushed. Gabriel’s eyes gleamed. Soon, now. Soon he’d be able to take this sweet thing home and to his bed. How he would enjoy that! Better than food, even better than dancing…well, perhaps equal with dancing…was the pleasure of good sex. And he intended that this sex be very, very good. Animalistic, amazing, mind-blowing sex. When he was done with Alan, no other man would ever measure up to Gabriel. No matter who he took to his bed from now on, Alan would always think of the dancer while he was with that other man.

The thought of another man with Alan made him frown slightly for some reason. Why did this thought disturb him? Never mind. He shook it off, intending to concentrate on the now and the beautiful hunt that was coming to an end. He toyed with his wine glass, intending to bring this dinner to a close soon and have Alan drive him home. There he’d show the accountant his king-sized bed and the black silk sheets that would feel so good against his pale soft skin. 

 

Gabriel’s impatience finally got the best of him twenty minutes later. Alan seemed to have eaten as much as he could, and the dancer had already finished his meal. He always needed a lot of food to fuel his body. “Alan,” he said, making the other man look up from his plate again.

“Y-Yes?”

“This has been a nice evening, but I need to get to bed early,” Gabriel told him. “We start our performances tomorrow, after all. I need my…rest,” he added with a wicked smile. 

“Oh! Of course,” Alan said hurriedly, putting down his fork. “I’ll just…”

Gabriel held up a hand. “I will pay the check,” he said commandingly.

“Oh, but…you paid last time. For lunch. I should pay this time,” Alan said, looking stricken. 

Gabriel shook his head. “I asked you out on this date, Alan,” he pointed out. “I shall pay.”

The implacability in this statement made Alan accept reluctantly, and Gabriel waved at the waiter to bring him the bill. They left the restaurant together, after Gabriel had paid the bill with a platinum credit card. They walked toward Alan’s car, Gabriel full of anticipation. He slid his eyes sideways and admired Alan’s tight little ass. Soon he’d be claiming that for his very own. He wished he could reach out and cup it right now, but he didn’t think that the other man would like him doing that in public. They just had to wait until they were in private. Such a short time. Why did it feel like a century or so? 

 

They got into the car together. Alan was nervously buckling his seat belt, fumbling it rather badly. Gabriel bit back a laugh at his expense. How adorable this little thing was! How he looked forward to abating that nervousness, and turning it into complete lust and desire instead. He couldn’t wait to see how Alan would look in the throes of passion. 

Alan finally got his seat belt buckled and started the car. “Where do I go?” he asked Gabriel, his voice only cracking a little. 

“I shall instruct you,” Gabriel told him aloud, while thinking that he couldn’t wait to instruct Alan! On so many, many things…

 

He gave the accountant instructions on how to get to his apartment building. Alan said little during the drive, concentrating on the road. Gabriel knew that was because he sensed what was to come. Somewhere in his brain, the prey sensed that the praetor was about to eat him. Gabriel grinned whitely to himself as he leaned back like a lounging panther in the passenger’s seat, practically humming to himself. It seemed that he’d waited an eternity for this. 

Alan pulled up in front of his apartment building at last. Gabriel directed him around the parking lot to his unit, and Alan stopped the car. He turned to Gabriel. “Uh, here we are!” he blurted out, still sounding incredibly nervous. 

“Yes, here we are,” Gabriel replied in satisfaction. “And now, for the ‘goodnight kiss’, eh?”

Alan froze in his seat. Gabriel chuckled and leaned over. His mouth captured Alan’s in a devastating kiss, his lips taking the other man’s by storm. His tongue lazily inserted itself into Alan’s sweet mouth when the accountant gasped in shock, and he heard a breathy moan that made his sex drive ramp up even more. He ate at Alan’s mouth; he devoured it. His lips and tongue conquered everything, and Alan yielded to him so naturally and sweetly that it drove him mad with lust. Alan’s hands came up jerkily to clutch at his shoulders, and the accountant held on for dear life as Gabriel took his mouth in a bold imitation of the way that he intended to take Alan’s body. 

Finally, reluctantly, he disengaged. Alan was flushed, panting, and dreamy eyed. The sight of him made Gabriel want to howl with lust. “Will you come inside, Alan?” he purred hoarsely. “I would like to show you my…apartment.”

Alan blinked. Clearly his mind wasn’t working very well right now. But then some semblance of coherent thought returned, and to Gabriel’s complete and utter shock he shook his head slowly. “I don’t think that I should,” he said softly. “Not on our first date. I mean…” he colored faintly. “You DO want to have sex with me, right?”

Gabriel nodded, dumbfounded. Alan sighed. “I’m afraid that I’m not the sort of person who can just sleep with a guy on the first date,” he said apologetically. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to…” he trailed off, coloring even more violently. “With you,” he went on weakly. “But I just can’t. It’s not me. I’m sorry, Gabriel. But thank you for dinner. I really enjoyed it.”

Stunned, Gabriel just stared at him. He didn’t know what to say. No man had EVER turned him down before when he’d invited them in! “Are you sure, Alan?” he asked, perplexed. 

The accountant nodded firmly. “I’m sorry, but yes. I have to turn you down.”

Gabriel tried to pull himself together. “Then when WOULD you be...amenable…to having sex with me?” he demanded. “You would be at some time, wouldn’t you?” he added. He was still reeling from Alan’s having turned him down.

A nod. “Sure,” Alan said shyly. “I like you,” he said, lowering his lashes shyly in a charming gesture. “It’s just…we’d need to go out some more, get to know each other, that sort of thing.” 

Gabriel’s mouth opened, then closed. Alan truly wanted them to date some more before they had sex? He’d never met another gay man quite like this one before. “How long might that take?” he asked in a strained voice. His libido was already pushed to the breaking point. How long would he have to go before he could capture his prey at last?

Alan shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know,” he said. “Can’t we just take it one date at a time? That is, if you still want to date me,” he went on.

Of course he did! Gabriel never gave up until he got what he wanted. Never! “Yes, I would like to continue to date you, Alan,” he replied truthfully. 

The accountant’s face lit up. “That’s so great! When did you want to go out again?”

“Perhaps the day after tomorrow? Since tomorrow is our opening night, I will be very tired by the evening,” Gabriel remarked.

“Okay. Here, here’s my cell phone number,” Alan handed him a business card. “You can call me whenever you want to go out, or just let me know at the theater. And…I really did have a great time tonight, Gabriel.”

“As did I,” the dancer replied truthfully. Except for the lack of sex, this evening had been very enjoyable. It simply would have been so much more enjoyable if he could have talked Alan into his bed tonight, but…

Alan looked happy at his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Good luck on your opening day,” he said. 

“My thanks,” Gabriel opened his door and got out of the car. Alan waved to him and drove away. Watching the car’s tail lights recede out of the parking lot, Gabriel slowly shook his head. This felt like some kind of strange dream. Someone had actually turned him down! Yes, his ego was enormous, but it had reason to be. Men flocked to him, as did many women before they realized he was gay and uninterested in them. He’d never had a man refuse to have sex with him before when he’d offered it. Alan was a strange and unique creature.

And now he was even more intent and obsessed. He HAD to get Alan into his bed! The hunt was everything to him, and now the hunted had eluded him. Gabriel would not rest until he got what he wanted, whatever it took. He was intrigued by the strength of will it had taken for Alan to turn him down. Gabriel, who was always curious as a cat, now had to know everything about this rare and charming specimen who had actually walked away from sex with him. Although a small part of his hindbrain was beginning to feel a little uneasy, to feel that somehow, in some way, the hunter was becoming the hunted instead. But he ignored this small voice of warning, because he simply had to have Alan in his bed. No matter what it took…


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan helps to relieve some of Gabriel's 'pain'.

Gabriel was beyond frustrated. He was on his third date with Alan(The fourth date if you counted the first lunch they’d eaten together), and the accountant remained stubborn about them getting to know each other better before they went to bed together. The dancer was glad that the shows had started - at least he could work off his frustration and overburdened sexual energy through dance. Otherwise, he might have exploded by now. 

He flared his nostrils as he stared across the table of the Italian restaurant at Alan’s adorable face. The other man was telling him about his college years, and while what he was saying was interesting Gabriel had a hard time concentrating. All he wanted to do was pull Alan up on the tabletop right here in the restaurant and have his wicked way with him right in front of all of these witnesses. His cock ached in his trousers, and his hands clenched tightly on the white tablecloth in front of him. He was losing his mind! 

“Are you all right, Gabriel?” he heard a concerned voice ask. 

He looked up, blinking, into Alan’s worried gaze. He tried to conjure up a smile for the sweet little accountant, but it wouldn’t quite come. “I am fine,” he replied tightly.

Alan shook his head. “No, you’re not,” he told Gabriel. “What’s bothering you?”

Gabriel’s teeth clenched together. “I. AM. FINE.” He repeated, harshly.

Alan’s brows flew up. “Okay, you’re definitely not ‘fine’, not if you’re reacting to a simple question like that,” he said sharply. “So answer the question, Gabriel. What’s wrong?”

Under his angry but still concerned stare, the dancer looked away. His shoulders lifted in a tight shrug. “I…am just…frustrated,” he said at last, stiffly. 

“About what?” Alan asked softly. 

The dancer’s eyes skewed back to him. “Alan, mon cher, how can you not understand WHY I am frustrated?” He said in disbelief. “It is because…” he lowered his voice so that those at the other tables around them couldn’t hear them, “I want you so much! It has been some time since I went without sex for such a long time, all because I have been chasing you. When I dance, I am reenergized and electrified. There is only one place where I feel the same -and that is in bed. I want to dance with you in the sheets, Alan. I want you so much that it is driving me mad!”

Color swarmed up in Alan’s cheeks. “Oh,” he said softly. “Umm…I want you, too, Gabriel,” he replied just as softly. “But the thing is, I just can’t be…intimate…with you if I don’t feel like I know you. I’m not the kind of guy that does one-night stands or casual sex where everybody goes there own way afterward. If you can’t accept that, then we don’t have to see each other anymore. You can go and find somebody else to…sleep with,” he added, looking unhappy.

Gabriel snarled silently. “I cannot do that!” He cried.

Alan’s brows together in puzzlement. “Why not?”

Gabriel took in a long breath. “It is my nature, Alan. When I see someone I want, I cannot give up on them until I have them. No matter what it takes. I am a hunter. I must run down and capture my prey. I will admit, it is very frustrating to meet someone so very attractive yet also so stubborn. I’ve never had so much of a problem getting another man into my bed.”

Alan smiled wryly. “I can see that,” he remarked. “Although…” he drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the tablecloth. 

“What?” Gabriel asked, feeling curiosity. The expression on Alan’s face was…odd. And color was rising up in his cheeks. What was he thinking?

“I might be able to…well…help you out,” the accountant began, rather shyly.

Completely turned on by that adorable shyness, Gabriel had to work to swallow. “What do you mean?”

Alan dropped his eyes to the tablecloth. “I’ll tell you when we leave,” he said softly. “I don’t want to say it here.”

“Very well,” Gabriel replied, trying to curb his impatience. He just had to get through the rest of this date, and perhaps…He could only hope that Alan meant to give him some kind of relief, before he went perfectly mad.

 

The next hour or so was pure torture for him. Alan chatted away lightly about nothing much, but he could barely meet Gabriel’s eyes. The dancer was extremely curious by now, as well as incredibly turned on. The rosy color that kept swarming up into Alan’s cheeks, was making him salivate. It was just too cute and sexy! He could barely eat his food or respond to Alan’s remarks. He just wanted this dinner to end, so that he could find out what Alan had in mind to help his ‘problem’. 

 

Finally, dessert arrived. Gabriel could have wept with joy and relief. He barely touched his tiramisu, though Alan not only finished his he licked the spoon. Oh, the sight of that made Gabriel’s body tighten and a groan rise up in his throat! Alan was just such an unconsciously sexy creature. Everything that he did turned Gabriel on immensely. 

“Are you ready to go?” He finally asked, his voice husky and dark.

Alan shivered a little, dropping his lashes over his eyes. ‘Yes,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”

“Perfect,” Gabriel leapt to his feet and threw some money on the table for a generous tip, then bolted over to pay the check. Alan trailed after him, saying nothing. He didn’t even protest Gabriel paying for dinner again, something he would normally have done. The dancer felt his cock surge in his trousers, and he almost ran out of the restaurant to Alan’s car. The accountant trailed after him, getting behind the wheel and buckling up. He said nothing as he started the engine.

Gabriel waited until he pulled into traffic, then spoke. “What did you have in mind? To help me, Alan?”

“Uh, wait until we get to your apartment complex,” Alan told him, his voice unsteady.

“Very well,” he lounged back in his seat like a panther, watching Alan out of the corner of his eye. He could barely stand the wait, but fortunately his apartment wasn’t far away. Alan turned into the parking lot, then stopped the car in an empty space. He took a deep breath and cut the engine, then turned toward Gabriel as he undid his seat belt. 

 

“What now, mon coeur?” Gabriel asked slyly, his eyes heavy and lidded.   
Alan took in a deep, trembling breath. “Just sit still,” he told Gabriel as sternly as he could.

“Very well,” the dancer replied, sitting very still and waiting. 

Alan reached out with trembling hands toward Gabriel’s crotch. The dancer harshed in a deep breath of his own, as slender fingers brushed over the bulge of his erection. They found the snap and zipper of the trousers, and began to ease the zipper down slowly. Gabriel had stopped breathing, and was imitating a statue as he waited to see what would happen next. Alan’s eyes were focused on his crotch, and he sucked in a breath as he revealed white cotton underwear. His hands parted the flaps of the crotch of the trousers, and pulled down the waistband of the underwear slowly but surely.   
Gabriel moaned breathily as his raging cock sprang free of the imprisoning cotton.

Alan made a small sound at the sight of it. One of his slim hands curled over the hard, hot length, and Gabriel let forth a sound rather like an animal’s guttural snarl at Alan’s soft touch on his cock. Alan licked his lips, and the sight of that gesture made him shudder and close his eyes. He’d never been more turned on than he was right now, at this moment. 

“Stay still,” Alan instructed him again, breathily. He made a sound of assent, then he groaned and went rigid as a hot, moist orifice closed over the tip of his cock and sank down on it. His eyes flew open, and he saw the back of Alan’s head hovering over his groin. The accountant had leaned over the emergency brake and had taken Gabriel’s cock in his mouth, and was now sucking at it with soft intensity.

He wanted to put his hand on the back of Alan’s head, to guide his movements. But the other man had told him to stay still, and he’d said that he would. So somehow, through sheer force of will, he remained still and let Alan begin to pleasure him with that hot little mouth. For such an uptight and restrained seeming person, Alan was an amazing little cocksucker. His tongue danced the length of Gabriel’s shaft, and he provided a wonderful suction that made Gabriel groan and hump upward a bit involuntarily with his hips. This was so good! 

One hand grasped the base of his cock and stroked it as Alan pulled back to the head, sucking and licking at it. The other hand found his balls and palmed them in time with the sucking and stroking. Gabriel writhed in his seat, his teeth gritted and his head thrown back. “Oui, mon cher,” he moaned lowly. “So good! Tres bien! DO not stop!”

Alan didn’t. He continued his relentless assault on Gabriel’s cock, driving down to take all of it in his mouth even as he squeezed Gabriel’s ball lightly to provide pleasure just this side of pain and make him feel even better. Gabriel’s cried out, thrusting upward, unable to help himself. But Alan didn’t even stop then, though he’d told Gabriel to stay still. His head bobbed as he moved it up and down, and the dancer knew that he was close. His many weeks of deprivation while he waited for Alan to come to his bed had him on a hair trigger. “Alan!” he gasped, loudly. “I am going to…”

“Come,” he heard Alan say briefly, just before he returned to his pleasurable torture of Gabriel’s cock.

So he did. He groaned out Alan’s name again, gasping as he spent inside of that sucking mouth an Alan swallowed it all down so sweetly. He fell back in the seat, utterly spent, as Alan licked the last traces of fluid from his cock and then gently tucked it back into his underwear. He rezipped and resnapped the trousers, and sat up in his seat. He looked at Gabriel, who was staring at him with lidded eyes. “Better?” He asked, softly.

“So much better, lovely one,” Gabriel told him, reaching out to gently push his hair off of his forehead in a tender gesture. “Merci. I have never had such a good blow job before this.”

Alan looked astonished. “Really?” He asked in disbelief.

“Really truly. You are an artiste. I am very satisfied.”

Alan looked pleased, a rosy blush rising in his cheeks. “I’m glad,” he murmured, lowering his eyelashes onto his cheeks. 

Gabriel leaned over and captured his lips in a deep kiss, taking those lips in an imitation of what he’d like to do to Alan’s body. The accountant was panting and red-faced when he finally lifted his lips away. “Shall I pleasure you now in return, Alan?” he asked.

To his surprise, Alan shook his head. “Not this time,” he replied simply. “This was for you. Maybe next time.”

Pleased that there would be a next time, Gabriel stroked his cheek with his fingertips. “In that case, I shall see you tomorrow at the theater, Alan. I had a wonderful time tonight, and not just because of the blow job,” he went on with a lazy, sensual smile.

Alan smiled back. “I’m glad. I had a great time, too. I’ll see you tomorrow, Gabriel.”

With a last soft kiss, he left Alan in his car. Gabriel watched him drive away, bemused by what had happened tonight. He could still feel the touch of Alan’s lips and tongue and fingers on his groin. But instead of easing his passion for the accountant, Gabriel now found himself even more drawn to the man. All he wanted was Alan in his bed, screaming his name as he rode Gabriel’s cock. He simply had to make that happen sometime soon, before he lost his mind altogether.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something special lies ahead for our boys...

Gabriel strolled along in the park, turning his face up to the sunshine. Beside him on one side padded his dog, Jean-Luc, a massive brown-and-white beast with a pinkly panting tongue. On his other side, Alan walked along looking rather guilty. He should still have been at work; but Gabriel had wheedled him into coming to the park to spend some time with him and Jean-Luc instead, and he hadn’t fought the idea very hard. 

The dancer lowered his head and considered his human companion instead. Alan looked good in the bright sunlight. It brought a rosy glow to his pale cheeks and limned his hair in gold. Gabriel imagined that he’d look equally as good in firelight - and he just happened to have that gorgeous built-in fireplace in his living room! His lips lifted in the smallest of wicked smiles at this thought.

Of course, first he had to get Alan into his apartment. And that was proving much harder than he’d ever supposed it would. The blow job, the night before last, had been wonderful. But it wasn’t enough! He needed Alan in his bed, screaming and coming on his cock, and he needed it now! Before his raging hormones killed him! 

He blew out a frustrated breath at this thought, and Alan glanced sideways at his profile. He could read Gabriel’s face quite easily - it was clear the man was all worked up. Not that Alan himself didn’t feel almost as much frustrated desire - he wanted nothing more but to give in and let Gabriel fuck him as many times as the man wanted to. But he knew, instinctively, that if he gave in too soon and too easily Gabriel would just see him as yet another conquest and would flit away to some other easily plucked flower without a backward glance. And that would hurt. It would hurt so bad. 

Because Alan suspected that he was falling in love with Gabriel, so to be casually discarded at this point would break his heart into a million pieces.  
But he couldn’t let either of them go on suffering for much longer, either. A balance had to be struck. So Alan decided to lay everything on the line, out in the open, here and now in this sunny park. “Gabriel?” He said quietly, fighting to keep his voice even and calm.

“What is it, mon cher?” Gabriel replied absently. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Alan began, taking on a long breath and mentally girding his loins. “I’d really like it…if you’d come to my place tomorrow night.”

Silence, as Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up in astonishment. Then he began to smile, lazily, his eyes gleaming with a light that made Alan tremble. “Of course I would love that, my sweet,” he purred.

“But I was wondering…about afterward,” Alan rushed on, the feeling of shakiness growing inside of him. His entire future would be decided right here. This was big stuff.

Gabriel frowned. “What do you mean?” He asked, stopping in his tracks.

Alan also stopped. Hew turned to face Gabriel, lifting his chin. “I mean, after we…have sex. What then?”

Gabriel shrugged, smiling wickedly. “Then, mon amour, we do the obligatory cuddling, I suppose,” he teased. “Until we are strong and rested enough to do the beast with two backs all over again.”

Alan felt his cheeks flame pink but held his ground. “No, I mean the day after,” he continued doggedly. “What do we do then?”

Gabriel cocked his head to the side. “Hmm. There is this nice little place where we can get brunch, seeing as it will be Saturday and you don’t work Saturdays. And what could be more traditional than two gay men going to brunch, eh?” He added with a light laugh. 

Alan felt himself beginning to relax a little in sheer relief. “You’ll want to stay over, then?” he asked tentatively, just to be sure he had it right.

Gabriel flipped a hand at him. “Of course I shall! What is better, after the beautiful lovemaking, than falling asleep in each others’ arms?”

Alan let out the breath he’d been holding and felt his shoulders sag from their former tense, rigid positions. “Okay,” he said. “If you come over after your last show, it’ll be like…what…nine o’clock?”

“Oui,” Gabriel agreed. “Around that time, I shall take a cab for once. You must give me your address, Alan.”

“I’ll write it down for you,” the accountant told him, trying to conceal his almost dizzying bout of happiness. Gabriel wasn’t going to flee his house like a thief in the night after they had sex. He wanted them to sleep together, and to go to brunch together the next morning. Those were both positive signs. He could only cross his fingers and hope that Gabriel would continue to want to see him after they’d been down and dirty together a few times.   
To his astonishment, Gabriel reached out then and grabbed his hand. He insisted on keeping hold of that as they set out once more, his other hand holding Jean-Luc’s leash. “It is a beautiful day, Alan,” Gabriel murmured, looking down at him from his greater height. “It is good to be here with you and Jean-Luc.”

Alan smiled back at him. “I’m enjoying it, too,” he agreed.

Gabriel squeezed his hand. “And tomorrow night shall be even better,” he went on, his eyes full of a sultry look that made Alan tremble for an entirely different reason altogether. 

 

After he dropped Gabriel and Jean-Luc off at home, Alan set off on a bunch of errands necessitated by his invitation to Gabriel to come to his house tomorrow night. He went to over a dozen different stores making various purchases, and was wearily happy by the time he trailed home and lugged everything that he’d bought inside. He set it all in the living room or the kitchen(there were things that needed to be refrigerated) for now, so tired he could barely see straight. After he fed and made much of his cat, Boniface, he retreated into his bathroom to take a long, hot bath and think about his plans for tomorrow night. 

Alan had decided to seduce Gabriel rather than the other way around. He knew that the dancer was the one used to being the seducer, the pursuer, the one who overwhelmed men with his passion and took them by storm. So wouldn’t it be an astonishing change of pace for him to have someone turn the tables on him? It was yet another way that Alan meant to surprise and intrigue him. If he could keep Gabriel interested, off-balance, and on his toes, he’d never grow bored with Alan and wander off to find a new conquest. Or that’s what he was hoping would happen, anyway. If it didn’t work, at least he would have tried. All you could do was try. 

 

 

Gabriel lifted his partner into the air. She held her arms above her head, her body a graceful bow. The watching audience burst into wild applause as the two main performers posed without moving on the stage for what seemed like forever. Then he slowly lowered her to the stage, and they both turned to face the audience. The other dancers lined up behind them and took each others’ hands, and they all bowed together in complete synchronization. More applause and cheering, as the dancers took at least two more bows before flitting off the stage toward both wings. 

Gabriel’s heart was pounding with excitement and joy. He’d been a powerhouse tonight, even more so than usual; because tonight, finally sweet Alan would be his! It had been in the back of his head the entire time, driving him on to new heights. Now he strode into the men’s dressing room and threw a towel over his neck, beginning to peel his strategically ripped tights off. They were the only piece of clothing that he was wearing. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, and the body paint that had been painstakingly painted onto his skin was starting to peel away a bit from the moisture. That was all right; he’d wash it all off anyway in the shower momentarily. 

His fellow male dancers streamed by him, talking and laughing and starting to remove their own miniscule clothes. Gabriel ignored them all. He wanted to get showered and dressed as quickly as he could, and leave to go to Alan’s house. Ordinarily he would have stayed for a bit and mingled with the crowd, chatting with his audience. He loved how much they adored him, he’d admit it. He was a vain creature, he knew that. But if they had only adored him for his looks or sexiness, that he wouldn’t have cared about. That was too shallow. But the dance - he loved that they loved the dance as much as he did, only as spectators rather than participants. 

But now…he had no time for all that. All he could think about was his sweet Alan. How that adorable creature would look spread out naked on his bed as Gabriel took him, that’s all he cared about. Another form of dancing, only horizontal rather than vertical, was soon to begin. He could not wait! He mopped hurriedly at the sweat on his skin with the towel, moving toward the showers. 

 

Later on, the taxi dropped him off in front of Alan’s small, neat house. Gabriel strolled toward the front door, taking it in. The light over the front door showed him that the house was a cream color with some darker trim that might have been green or blue. The front yard was well-tended and neat, much like Alan himself. He smiled to himself as he walked up to the door and pushed the doorbell. 

The door swung open, and Alan stood smiling shyly at him from within. “Hey, Gabriel,” he said in a voice gone slightly husky from nervousness -and something else. It was that something else that made Gabriel’s loins tighten and his heart pound. 

“Good evening, Alan. May I come in?” He asked throatily.

A nod. The accountant stepped back and lifted a hand. “Please come in.”   
Gabriel stepped inside the house, and when he saw the living room(the front door opened open straight into the living room) he gasped in wonder and amazement. Soft white fairy lights were strung along the mantel and the walls, creating a soft glow. This was augmented by candles in holders on the mantel, coffee table, and in the middle of a small round table set with a white tablecloth. This table was set with some lovely china plates, gleaming silverware, and linen napkins folded into fantastic shapes. Bunches of flowers in vases at strategic points filled the room with a heady scent, making his nostrils quiver appreciatively. A bottle of champagne was sitting on the breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the living room, along with a corkscrew and two fluted champagne glasses. Softly romantic music was playing somewhere in the background. 

“Do you like it?” Alan asked him softly.

“You did this…for me?” He asked in amazement, charmed and overwhelmed. 

Alan nodded. “I wanted our first night together to be special,” he told Gabriel. “I ordered dinner and went to pick it up at this restaurant that I went to one time for a business dinner. The food is amazing. I thought we’d eat, drink some champagne, and then afterward…”

“Dessert,” Gabriel said, turning to him. “Oh, Alan, you are a marvelous creature,” he said, seizing the accountant’s hands in his own. “No one has ever done anything like this for me. I don’t know what to say,” he lifted those slim hands and kissed them in gratitude.

Alan gasped as Gabriel’s lips skimmed over his knuckles. “I’m just glad that you like it,” he began.

Gabriel chuckled huskily, just before he pulled Alan into his arms. “I like it very much. And I like you, Alan. I like you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for 'dessert'...

Gabriel kept looking around the living room in a sort of awe as they ate the wonderful dinner that Alan had provided. He was dazzled. Alan had really done all of this for him?! He’d never had a lover make such a beautiful romantic gesture before this. Hell, he was lucky if the guys he fucked provided breakfast in the morning - if he bothered to stay the night, that is. But now he sat in a fairy wonderland, all provided by the man sitting across the table from him. Alan was so very sweet! He looked forward to sampling that sweetness very soon. 

Alan sipped at the glass of wine by his hand. He seemed quite nervous, something which charmed Gabriel greatly. When Alan licked his lips, the dancer nearly groaned aloud. How unconsciously sensual his Alan was! 

Wait a minute. HIS Alan? Gabriel was brought up short by this thought. Of course, he greatly desired to sleep with Alan. Yes, yes. As many times as it took to get this desire for the man out of his system. But after that, would he not go his merry way, looking for yet another sweet morsel to satisfy his desires? Surely he wasn’t…his thoughts stuttered and trained off as something like panic rose up in him. He wanted nothing more than to get to his feet and dash out the door, never to return. The fact that he couldn’t, that he couldn’t get his muscles to work, told him something that scared him even more. Gabriel realized that he was in deep, deep trouble. 

 

It was just as his mother had warned him. Once, long ago, when he was still just a boy and she wasn’t aware of his being a homosexual yet, his mother had talked to him about how she’d met his father. This was just before the tragic car accident that had claimed his father’s life, and nearly killed Gabriel himself. So his mother was smiling as they sat side-by-side on a bench outside their three story Swiss farm house, looking down the tiny valley where the crops they grew were ripening in the summer sun. Her dark, curly hair, which h3e’d inherited, fell to her shoulders as she turned her face up to its warmth. 

“Ah, Gabriel, mon cher, I met your Papa when I was just a girl of nineteen. So tall, so handsome! And the way he smiled at me - I just knew. My heart knew.”

“Knew what, Maman?” The boy Gabriel had asked curiously.

Her eyes had met his as she lightly touched his face. “I knew he was the one, Gabriel. The one I would share the rest of my life with. The one who made my heart sing. The one who would make me happy forever. Some day, mon cher, you, too, will meet such a person. When she smiles and looks into your eyes, you’ll know that you’ve come home. When that happens, Gabriel, do not fight it. You will never be happier than you will be with that person, I swear. And that’s what we should all want for ourselves, mon coeur. To be happy.” 

Gabriel hadn’t really understood her back then. Now, so many years later, looking into Alan’s eyes across this small table, he suddenly did. He’d witnessed his mother’s grief and loneliness when his father died, but that hadn’t put him off of finding love. Because the contrast between her sadness, and the happiness she’d always had with his father, had only made Gabriel want that happiness for himself. Although perhaps he’d always thought, as a gay man, that he had no chance for such a thing. But now he saw how foolish that assumption was. Because his happiness was sitting just across from him, giving him a concerned look.

“Gabriel? Are you all right?” Alan asked him.

“Yes, yes, I am fine,” he said, gathering himself together. “Dinner was superb, mon cher. Buy don’t you think it’s time for dessert?” Gabriel purred, letting his eyes go half-lidded. He wasn’t going to reveal his thoughts to Alan just yet. When the time was right…but for now, he wanted to taste his ’dessert’. He wanted to taste it very, very badly.

Alan’s breath was coming short, and his fingers were trembling on the stem of his wine glass. “Of course,” he husked, swallowing visibly. Gabriel’s smile widened and became predatory. “Come, then,” he said, rising to his feet and holding out his hand. “Show me your bedroom, Alan.”

Alan also got to his feet. He rounded the table and reached out to take Gabriel’s hand, his eyes wide and full of lust. Gabriel let his fingers stroke over Alan’s as the accountant led him toward a hallway with a set of closed doors on either side of it. He came to one of those doors, and opened it to reveal a pretty, comfortable-looking bedroom with a neatly made-up bed. In anticipation of what was to come, Alan had placed candles in etched glass bowls on the dresser, and had scattered rose petals on the bedspread. 

“A splendid bower,” Gabriel murmured, looking at the vanilla-scented candles and the rose petals adding their fragrance to the air. “And you have made it just for us. What a darling creature you are, Alan,” he swept the accountant up in his arms, tenderly pulling Alan to him. “How I look forward to making love to you here tonight.”

Alan didn’t reply, mostly because Gabriel took his mouth before he could. All he could do was moan breathily as Gabriel’s mouth feasted on his, the dancer’s lips moving and slanting and pressing in such a wonderful way! A tongue invaded his mouth, finding his own and lapping at it. Alan shivered, his arms coming up to close over Gabriel’s shoulders. He held on as Gabriel took his mouth in an imitation of the way he’d soon take other parts of Alan.   
Gabriel licked at his bottom lip as he withdrew his mouth at last. Alan moaned breathily. “How adorable you are, Alan,” Gabriel crooned tenderly. “Now I must see the rest of you, because I know it will be just as sweet.”

His fingers stroked over the front of the shirt Alan was wearing, causing him to shiver. Those deft digits found the buttons, and made swift work of them. Alan panted, looking up into Gabriel’s eyes, seeing them dark with desire. Desire for him. He was entranced by them. Nobody had ever looked at him like this before - like he wanted to eat Alan alive. He shuddered as Gabriel’s fingers pulled his shirt plackets aside, baring his chest. He wanted to cover himself up, but those dark eyes were looking at his pale skin so hungrily that he couldn’t bring himself to. His nipples rucked under that hot gaze, and Gabriel licked his lips.

“Mmm, oui, sweet indeed,” Gabriel remarked, before he bent down and took Alan’s left nipple in his mouth and sucking on it.

“Oh, God!” Alan moaned, his hands clutching at Gabriel’s head. The dancer’s hands spanned his waist, then impatiently pushed his shirt off of his body completely. His tongue danced over Alan’s nipple, tenderly laving at it. His back arched into this amazing touch, and he groaned as Gabriel suckled at the rigid peak with intensity. His legs were starting to give way.  
Sensing this, Gabriel swept him up in his arms and carried him over to the bed. He lay Alan down on the bedspread, then stood over him. He smiled in a sultry manner as he put his hands on Alan’s thighs. “Now I shall unwrap my gift,” he murmured. He ran his hands over Alan’s thighs to his groin, his fingers finding the snap and zipper of his trousers. Alan lay there trying to breathe, watching as Gabriel pulled his zipper down slowly to reveal the bugle of his penis under the cotton of his underwear. 

“Ah, what have we here?” Gabriel said huskily, skimming his fingers over the trapped cock lightly.

“Ooo, Gabriel,” Alan moaned, lifting his hips to offer himself to the dancer.

“Do you like this, mon cher?” Gabriel asked as his fingers sketched the dick jumping and twitching under the stretched cotton.

“Yes, yes! Please!” Alan whimpered desperately.

“Oui, I shall please you, Mon ami,” Gabriel assured him. His fingers caught in the waistband of the underwear, and then he was pulling it and the trousers down Alan’s legs impatiently. 

Alan choked out a sigh of relief as his cock sprang free. Then he cried out as Gabriel’s fingers found him, stroking tenderly down his penis and then up again to the head. He slicked his fingers with pre-come, then gripped Alan more tightly as he rubbed the shaft with his hand. Alan’s heels caught in the bedspread as he lifted himself up into this touch, moaning. Fingers found his balls and cupped them. “Such a lovely thing,” Gabriel crooned.   
He stepped back suddenly, making Alan whimper a plea. He wanted more! 

But Gabriel was reaching for the hem of his shirt. Transfixed, Alan stared up open-mouthed as Gabriel pulled the shirt over his head, revealed that muscular chest that was so gorgeous and hot that he could not really believe that a guy like this was in his bedroom, preparing to fuck him. Gabriel then removed his pants, doing so easily and without shame. His legs were thick with muscle, and his cock - dear God, his cock - was so heavy and thick that it wouldn’t stand up, but bent a little instead. His pubic hair was neatly trimmed, and his balls were round and hung heavy in their sack. Alan stared, his mouth going dry at the amazing sight above him. 

Gabriel stretched, showing himself off. “Do you like what you see, mon amour?” He purred.

Alan nodded. He couldn’t speak. Gabriel’s smile widened and became sly. “Then I shall let you see it up close, Alan,” he said, and he climbed lightly on the bed and pressed his body to Alan’s.

Alan panted a little at the feel of Gabriel’s chest against his. Their cocks were sliding together, and Gabriel swayed his hips to make the friction feel even better. Alan grabbed at his shoulders as Gabriel took his mouth again, his legs wrapping around Gabriel’s hips to hold him in place as their mouths mated. He ran his hands down the dancer’s back, feeling the wonderful muscles moving under the skin as Gabriel danced with him. Oh, God, his fingers found that ass, that awesome ass, so tight and gorgeous! He grabbed at it, squeezing the cheeks as Gabriel pressed their dicks together more tightly. 

Gabriel pulled away enough to lick and suck a trial from his lips to his upper chest, leaving a trail of saliva as Alan tilted his head back to give him better access. A nip, then Gabriel was moving down a bit so that he could suck on Alan’s right nipple, as he’d already assaulted the left. Alan, ran his hands over Gabriel’s powerful shoulders, moaning his name. 

Gabriel scooched down further, kissing the muscles of his trembling tummy. “Your skin is so soft, so lovely, mon cher,” Gabriel said against his skin.   
Alan might have denied this assertion, but just then Gabriel moved back off the bed and bent over to take Alan’s cock in his hot, wet mouth. Alan cried out, grabbing at Gabriel’s head, holding onto the curly hair as Gabriel began to moved his head up and down, his lips tight around Alan as he sucked lovingly. 

Oh, shit, this felt so good! Gabriel’s mouth was so skilled! He lifted his hips to get more of the sensation, as Gabriel used his tongue to do the most amazing things on the length of him. Then the wet warmth was gone, and he might have protested except that Gabriel sucked one of his balls into his mouth. Alan lost it, crying out deliriously as he rocked his hips in a desperate movement. Gabriel suckled at his balls, lapped at them, lavished attention on them. His fingers stroked Alan‘s hips, his thighs, and pressed on his taint to stimulate his prostate from the outside. His thighs were quivering, and he knew he’d come soon.

Gabriel seemed to realize this. He pulled away entirely, and Alan found himself flipped over on the bed. His cock was pressed into the bedspread as the cheeks of his ass were parted, and Gabriel’s tongue lazed into the crack and began to lick at the twitching ring of his anus. Alan cried out, his hands grabbing tightly at the bedspread as Gabriel ate his ass. His body jerked and twitched as Gabriel’s tongue did terrible, wonderful things to him.   
“Gabriel!” He screamed. “I can’t…I can’t…Oh, God!”

Gabriel’s breath was on his shoulders. He kissed the skin of Alan’s left shoulder. “Can I make love to you, now, Alan?” He breathed.

“Oh, yes, please,” Alan begged. 

“Wonderful. Have you lube and condoms, mon amour?”

“The bedside…the bedside table,” Alan panted. 

A movement behind him. Then Gabriel was back, and slick fingers glided over his ass and gently wormed its way into his body. Alan gasped and lifted his hips, wanting more. Gabriel probed him, and soon he found Alan’s prostate and rubbed over it, making him buck and whine in the back of his throat. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes. I love it,” Alan whimpered. 

“Good. You’re so tight. You feel wonderful, mon cher,” Gabriel told him, adding another finger. He twisted them inside of Alan, making his back arch.

“Please, Gabriel. Please fuck me,” Alan said, pushing back against those invading fingers insistently.

“Oh, I shall, Alan,” Gabriel assured him, lightly biting his ass cheek. He withdrew his fingers, all four of them, that he’d been using to loosen Alan up.

“How would you like it, my sweet?” Gabriel asked him. “Like this, on your back, on my lap? What is your favorite position?”

“On my back” Alan managed to say. “I want to see your face, Gabriel.”

“Done,” he found himself flipped over, and Gabriel smiled down at him. His fingers were rolling a condom onto his thick cock. “Are you ready, mon ami?”

Alan nodded. He could barely speak anymore. His eyes were fastened on the cock that would soon slide into his body. It was so big! He knew this would probably hurt, but what the hell. He wanted to feel it, no matter what. Gabriel spread his legs and wrapped them around his hips. He positioned his cock at the entrance to Alan’s body. “Take a deep breath and relax, my sweet,” Gabriel murmured.

He did as he was told. Then that big head was spreading the muscles of his anal ring wide, making him whimper in mixed pain and pleasure. Gabriel pushed forward, getting the head and a few inches inside of him before he stopped. “We will wait until you are ready, Alan,” he said softly.

He panted desperately as he tried to get his body to relax. He SO wanted to feel Gabriel inside of him, taking him and pounding him into the mattress! All of those lovely muscles meant that the man could go like a jackhammer. Alan moaned at this thought, and felt his muscles finally starting to relax around the thick spike half-driven into him. He found his voice. “Please, Gabriel, give it all to me,” he pleaded, lifting his hips. “I want it.”

“Then you shall have it, mon cher,” Gabriel replied simply. He gave a long thrust that seated him inside of Alan to the hilt. There was still pain, but the pleasure was intense, too. Alan lifted his hips again, silently begging, and Gabriel began a series of long, slow, controlled thrusts that made Alan whimper and clutch at his arms. Gabriel gritted his teeth at how tight Alan was, how snuggly he fit around Gabriel’s cock, how good it felt. He admired the soft color in Alan’s cheeks and staining his chest, the way his mouth opened and his eyes glazed over in pleasure, the feel of his fingers gripping Gabriel’s forearms as he experienced that unique pleasure inside of himself. He was truly beautiful, just as Gabriel had known he’d be. 

He couldn’t help himself. He had to up the tempo of his thrusts. Fortunately for him, Alan was right there with him. He lifted his hips in time with each of Gabriel’s movements, and rolled his head on the bed as pleasure overwhelmed him. He began to babble nonsense. “Oh, so, yes, don’t, can’t, really, ah, love, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Gabriel plowed him hard. This was it, the perfect moment, that time just before he reached orgasm. The time when his partner w3as writhing under him, crying out his name, delirious with pleasure. The time when he, Gabriel Bruchli, was a sexual god. He loved this time almost more than orgasm itself. Almost. His hips pistoned as he drove into Alan, and the man was completely incoherent and lost under him.

Since it was clear that Alan wouldn’t be able to touch himself, Gabriel balanced himself on one hand and reached for that pretty pink cock with the other. He never stopped his thrusts as he grasped it, tightening his fingers around it as Alan cried out lousily and jerked his hips. He stroked once, twice…then Alan was coming, coming, spewing a fountain of semen out over his hand as he spasmed so sweetly around Gabriel’s cock that he lost it himself and came with a roar. He arched over Alan’s still twitching body, driving himself into the hilt and holding himself still as he emptied himself into the condom. His head went back, as the agony of ecstasy overwhelmed him. Yes!

Silence, except for loud panting breaths. Gabriel finally got enough energy back to pull out of Alan, who lay still and annihilated on the bedspread. Hs eyes were still glazed over. Gabriel smirked as he rolled to the side. He’d fucked Alan into a sex coma. He’d have to give the man some time to recover- then he intended to do it again. And again. And then perhaps one more time, before they both slept the sleep of the well-fucked.


End file.
